“You have a minute and a half left.""Fine," she snapped. "Then I'll reduce this conversation to one single fact. Today I had six callers. Six! Can you recall the last time I had six callers?"Anthony just stared at her blankly."I can't," Daphne continued, in fine form now. "Because it has never happened. Six men marched up our steps, knocked on our door, and gave Humboldt their cards. Six men brought me flowers, engaged me in conversation, and one even recited poetry."Simon winced."And do you know why?" she demanded, her voice rising dangerously. "Do you?"Anthony, in his somewhat belatedly arrived wisdom, held his tongue."It is all because he"—she jabbed her forefinger toward Simon—"was kind enough to feign interest in me last night at Lady Danbury's ball.”

“Anthony sneezed and pushed them aside. "Mother, I am trying to have a conversation with the duke."Violet looked at Simon. "Do you want to have this conversation with my son?""Not particularly.""Fine, then. Anthony, be quiet.”

“First of all, this goes no further than this room.""Agreed," she said quickly.Anthony looked pointedly at Simon."Of course," he replied."Mother would be devastated if she learned the truth.""Actually," Simon murmured, "I rather think your mother would applaud our ingenuity, but since you have quite obviously known her longer, I bow to your discretion."Anthony shot him a frosty look. "Second, under no circumstances are the two of you to be alone together. Ever.""Well, that should be easy," Daphne said, "as we wouldn't be allowed to be alone if we were courting in truth, anyway."Simon recalled their brief interlude in the hall at Lady Danbury's house, and found it a pity that he wasn't to be allowed any more private time with Daphne, but he recognized a brick wall when he saw one, especially when said wall happened to be named Anthony Bridgerton. So he just nodded and murmured his assent."Third—" "There is a third?" Daphne asked.            "There would be thirty if I could think of them," Anthony growled.                                        "Very well," she acceded, looking most aggrieved. "If you must.”

“Colin's chuckles grew more heartfelt. "You really ought to have more faith in your favorite brother, dear sis.""He’s your favorite brother?" Simon asked, one dark brow raised in disbelief."Only because Gregory put a toad in my bed last night," Daphne bit off, "and Benedict's standing has never recovered from the time he beheaded my favorite doll.""Makes me wonder what Anthony's done to deny him even an honorable mention," Colin murmured."Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Daphne asked pointedly.Colin shrugged. "Not really.""Didn't," she asked through clenched teeth, "you just tell me you promised a dance to Prudence Featherington?""Gads, no. You must have misheard.""Perhaps Mother is looking for you, then. In fact, I'm certain I hear her calling your name."Colin grinned at her discomfort. "You're not supposed to be so obvious," he said in a stage whisper, purposely loud enough for Simon to hear. "He'll figure out that you like him."Simon's entire body jerked with barely contained mirth."It's not his company I'm trying to secure," Daphne said acidly. "It's yours I'm trying to avoid."Colin clapped a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Daff." He turned to Simon. "Oh, how she wounds me.""You missed your calling, Bridgerton," Simon said genially. "You should have been on the stage.""An interesting idea," Colin replied, "but one that would surely give my mother the vapors." His eyes lit up. "Now that's an idea. And just when the party was growing tedious. Good eve to you both." He executed a smart bow and walked off.”

“Daphne," he said with controlled gentleness, "what is wrong?"She sat down opposite him and placed a hand on his cheek. "I'm so insensitive," she whispered. "I should have known. I should never have said anything.""Should have known what?" he ground out.Her hand fell away. "That you can't—that you couldn't—""Can't what?"She looked down at her lap, where her hands were attempting to wring each other to shreds. "Please don't make me say it," she said.'This," Simon muttered, "has got to be why men avoid marriage.”

“He gave her a sly, sideways look. "Did youbring it?""My list? Heavens, no. What can you be thinking?"His smile widened. "I brought mine."Daphne gasped. "You didn't!""I did. Just to torture Mother. I'm going peruse it right in front of her, pull out my quizzing glass—""You don't have a quizzing glass."He grinned—the slow, devastatingly wicked smile that all Bridgerton males seemed to possess. "I bought one just for this occasion.""Anthony, you absolutely cannot. She will kill you. And then, somehow, she'll find a way to blame me.""I'm counting on it.”

“Tonight," he whispered, his voice hoarse and hot in her ear, "I will make you mine."-Simon to Daphne”